


Revenant

by thedevilchicken



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Magic, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:49:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Tony's back. Sort of. Except Bleecker Street is screwing with his head and Strange's answer to the problem is kind of unconventional.





	Revenant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snickfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/gifts).



The inside of the house on Bleecker Street is all fucked up. Not like ravaged by rampaging dachshunds, more like it just makes no goddamn sense. 

Tony's a genius. He invents world-changing tech, he's travelled through time, he leaps tall buildings in a single bound...sure, so that last part's with repulsors, but it still totally counts. Totally. 

Tony's a genius and he can't figure it out. 

"So, your house moves," Tony says. "Right? I'm not losing my mind." 

"It likes to keep me on my toes," Strange replies. "You'll get used to it."

Tony's not sure he wants to. 

\---

Tony keeps getting lost. Five weeks now - he's pretty sure Dumbledore's house is just screwing with him. 

The worst part is, Gandalf the fricking Grey actually makes pretty good conversation. Scratch that. The worst part is, Glinda the fricking Good Witch keeps offering tea instead of working shit out. 

Wait. The worst part is: whenever Tony finds the motherfudging door, he starts turning to dust when it opens. 

He's seeking the bathroom when the house spits him into Strange's study. 

"I have an idea," Strange says. 

The look on his face says Tony won't like it. Frankly, he's had worse.

\---

It's not that Tony doesn't like sex. Tony loves sex. He just didn't expect having magic sex with the Boy Who Lived. 

"So much for your plan, Houdini," Tony says, after. His arm's fragmenting so he slams the door; once it's closed, it reconstitutes. "I like my elbow where it is. One of a kind." He grimaces. "Kinda."

Strange crosses his arms. He tilts his head. For a second, Tony sees the kind of doctor he used to be. 

"It took longer, didn't it?" Strange says. 

Tony sighs. He rubs his face. The hell of it is, Strange is right. 

\---

Every morning, Strange enters his room. Every morning, Strange strips. He leaves the cloak outside; the one time he didn't felt kinda like a threesome with a duster. 

"How d'you want me?" Tony asks, day five. Strange smirks. He comes to bed. 

"What, no foreplay?" Tony asks, day nine. Strange, the Vegas lounge act jerk, blows him before they fuck. He's got the gall to be good at it. 

Day twenty-three, Tony sits on the front step for an hour before it starts. Day thirty, he could probably read War & Peace. Confusingly, Strange keeps him company.

He'll be ready soon. 

\---

He tells nobody he's back till he's sure it's for keeps. He was gone six years. Shit moved on. 

When he sees Pepper, she faints. Morgan got big; Cap got old. At the party, they're confused but glad he's there. 

Then, after, he goes back to Bleecker Street. The house still makes no goddamn sense, but now it takes him right to Strange's bedroom. Maybe 177A gets him after all. 

"Didn't you leave?" Strange asks. 

"Guess I left something behind, Penn and-or Teller," Tony replies. Strange snorts. 

He doesn't need to be there. But Strange doesn't tell him to go.


End file.
